“I do. And you’ll find I’m right.”
“Well, I hope——”
“You may hope what you like!” Sir Charles shuddered at the man’s brusqueness. “The Squire’s a hard nut to crack, and so you’ll find, banker. If you can get him to do a thing he don’t wish to do, you’ll be the first that ever has. He hates the name of trade as he hates the devil!”
The baronet sat up. “Trade?” he exclaimed. “Oh! but I am not aware, sir, that this is—— Surely a railroad is on another footing?” Alarm was written on his face.
“Quite!” Ovington struck in. “Entirely different! Another thing altogether, Sir Charles. There can be only one opinion on that.”
“Of course, if I thought I was entering on anything like——”
“A railroad is on an entirely different footing,” the banker repeated, with an angry glance at Wolley, who, unrepentant, continued to stare before him, a sneer on his face. “On an entirely different footing. Even Mr. Griffin, prejudiced as I venture with all respect to think he is—even he would agree to that. But I have considered the difficulty, gentlemen, and I have no doubt we can surmount it. I propose to see him on Monday, accompanied by Mr. Bourdillon, his great-nephew, and between us I have no doubt that we shall be able to persuade him.”
Acherley looked over his shoulder at the secretary, who sat at a small table at Ovington’s elbow. “Like the job, Arthur?” he asked.
“I think Sir Charles’s example will go a long way with him,” Bourdillon answered. He was a tactful young man.
The banker put the interruption aside. “I shall see Mr. Griffin on Monday, and with your consent, gentlemen, I propose to offer him the sixth seat at the Board.”